Heckled

Earlier this week, I was given the honor of playing the piano for the Oquirrh Elementary School Fifth Grade Christmas Program. I thought this would be a fun thing to do. Preparations began a couple weeks ago and I immediately learned (and improved) various arrangements of songs like "Holly Jolly Christmas" "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" "Rudolph" and "Let There Be Peace On Earth". A couple days before the program, I was informed that I was expected to have "a little something" prepared for while the kids walked on and off the stage. I decided I would just take my big Christmas songbook and find something easy to play.
The program itself went well. I had a great rendition of "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" for while the kids came in. The actual program went very smoothly. My confidence was firm.
Then it was suddenly over. I scrambled through my big songbook to find something for the exit. "Jingle Bell Rock" caught my eye.
I figured, since it's technically a jazz song, it wouldn't really matter if I missed a couple notes here and there. I thought I was doing a great job having never played that song before. Apparently I was wrong. Some redneck in the back row shouted "Come on, Piano." At first I thought I was just hearing things. Then I realized that my take on a Christmas classic was offending someone.
So I stopped playing. Looked around. Stood up and left.
This experience is now the newest addition to my Anti-Christmas arsenal.

In Conclusion. . .

I realize that if one were to read through my previous blog posts, they would encounter two or three posts talking about some sort of "life-changing" decision. Here's another one.
These last few weeks, I have been tossing around the idea of going back on a mission. It's still hard for me to shake the thought of "where would I be right now?" and "where SHOULD I be right now?".
Well, I made up my mind. I decided I am going to try to go back. If I tried, I would know whether or not it was meant to be.
Unfortunately, not long after having made that decision, the exact opposite occurred. My body gave me a gentle reminder that I am not quite at full capacity.
So, I am here to stay.
I know what you are thinking. Deciding to stay in one place is no life-changing decision. You're right. The part about my life changing is more about the way I view my situation. I have made every effort to return, but it's just not meant to be.
The next step? Find a good reason to be here. This one shouldn't be hard.

Quirky

My dear cousin, Kylie (from Connecticut) tagged me. So here are six of my many quirks:
1. I sometimes get the overwhelming urge to shake my right hand violently. Knowing that such behavior makes me look a little crazy, I usually channel the energy by rapidly rubbing my hands together. You may or may not have noticed.
2. I waste at least twenty minutes a day at work focused on facing my money, and everybody else's. I also spend at least ten minutes after playing any board game that involves cards. This time is spent turning all the cards the same way.
3. Cheap lotion makes me uneasy.
4. I refuse to fill my gas tank up without washing my front and back windows. Even if it is raining, the windows need to be washed. I would only regret it if I didn't.
5. It is impossible for me to fall directly to sleep. I get up to use the bathroom one last time approximately fifteen minutes after I lay down. This was a big problem for the first bit of my mission because I slept on the top bunk and it was hard to get up and down without shaking the whole bed.
6. I always sit indian style.

Some Like It Hot

Thanks to everyone for your wonderful ideas of how to cope with the lack of heat in my car. I am pleased to announce that you need not worry about me any longer. Thanks to my cousin Derrick, my car now has heat. Apparently, when my other cousin installed the cd player he did a really bad job. So Derrick went in and re-did everything. What a champ.
If anybody ever wants to ride in my sweet, warm Hyundai Elantra, you know where to find me ; )

Say 'No' to Snow!

To all you over-zealous snow fans, I have a one thing to say: No.

I'm just not ready. If any of you have ridden in my car lately, you realize that snow is not good news for me at this time. I have no heat in my car. In fact, cold air is constantly blowing from the vents. No heat means my windows fog up really easily. I literally hold my breath as long as I can while I drive to work. If I want to be able to see, I have to turn on the defroster which blows more cold air. It's also really hard for my to shift since I have to be bundled up pretty tight. My rear passenger window is also stuck rolled down about a half-inch. My cd player doesn't play CDs if they are too cold so I have to use friction to heat up the discs before I can listen to them.

The snow also throws off my lunch schedule. I usually walk across the parking lot to Albertson's where I buy a yogurt and some noodles. The only dress shoes I have are the same shoes I wore on my mission. Although I didn't make it two years, I still managed to wear holes in these shoes.

I drive to work in my ice cube of a car. Then I get my feet wet just walking from the car to the bank. My feet are finally dry just in time for me to walk to pick up my lunch. By the time I leave work, it's already dark and my windows are frozen once again. I have to start the whole CD rubbing process all over again.

I'm not complaining, but. . . . okay, I'm complaining. If anybody has any cheap ways to stay warm (other than the obvious answer of fixing my heater) let me know.

Please, Mr. Postman

It has recently occurred to me that most of my friends currently serving missions are entering the final phase of their two years. This can be a tough time for most missionaries (or at least that's what I hear.) A lot of missionaries start to feel like their loved ones have either forgotten about them or have just moved on. There is a lot of uncertainty concerning who will be around when the missionary gets home. It makes me sad to think that my buds in the field might be experiencing these feelings.
For this reason, I am calling on anyone and everyone who knows a missionary in the field. It's time to write that missionary. Let them know that you haven't forgotten about them. I'm sure everybody who reads this can think of at least one person who might enjoy a letter from them. If you are having trouble thinking of a missionary to write, I would be happy to remind you of a couple.
You might find yourself making excuses, such as "We weren't really close friends" or "I have nothing interesting to say". However, I have witnessed the miraculous change that can be brought about when a missionary sees something in his mailbox.
It's not even hard to write to missionaries anymore. Just use dearelder.com.
I trust you'll do the "write" thing.

If Only I Took Steroids

Kyle is mad. Very Mad.
When Kyle signed up at Gold's Gym, he was under the impression that he wouldn't have to make his next payment until November 25th. Just to double check, Kyle even asked the girl at the gym when his next payment was due about two weeks ago. She confirmed that it was due November 25th.
My account was debited this weekend by Paramount Acceptance (Gold's Gym's spy name) and I am not pleased. It overdrew my account. When I called the corporate number to ask what is going on, she tried to tell me it is "in my contract." When I signed up for the account, the guy never said anything about my payments being automatically debited. Needless to say, I am a little annoyed.
I gave Gold's Gym the benefit of the doubt when I signed up. Working at a bank, I get a lot of complaints from customers who were debited without giving permission. I would venture to say that about 4 out of 10 of these circumstances involved Gold's Gym. This unofficial statistic was in the back of my mind while I was getting the hard sell from the rep at GG. I should have known.